


Unlearn

by abi z (azephirin), azephirin



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, First Time, Grief, Multi, POV First Person, Unrequited Love, Virginity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-28
Updated: 2009-11-28
Packaged: 2017-10-03 21:54:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azephirin/pseuds/abi%20z, https://archiveofourown.org/users/azephirin/pseuds/azephirin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So much unlearned, unspoken, unknown.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unlearn

She is a beautiful girl, and any man who was not a great fool would be happy to accept what she has offered.

I am a great fool.

I am not a fool for her, though it is easy to see how a man could be. Instead I am a fool for someone now dead—a fool who desperately, rendingly loves a man he will never see again. Those at the Academy would tell me that he is always present in the Force, but I don't feel it, not now, not the way I did even when he was miles away across the sands and I still knew the rhythm of his heartbeat and the pattern of his breathing. No, not like that.

And now a young boy lies asleep, his face even despite the grief of today, and I must train him. It was a promise I made, and one I intend to keep, although right now wandering into the desert to die of thirst sounds more appealing. I have nothing to teach, nothing to give this sweet-faced boy except for anger and hurt.

Her offer was not the careful, jaded offer of a queen; it was the query of a girl, curious but innocent, who has never been naked with another person but whose body has suddenly come to desire it. Indeed my age is not all that greater than hers; certainly the distance in years between my Master and myself is greater. Was greater. Oh gods.

It was ironic, as I had just left my Master in the space that we were sharing, under the blankets that were shared possessions. I could taste him in my mouth and feel his imprint on my skin. Soon I would go back, for if he reached for me and did not find me he would worry, but just for a while (awake after the pleasures of love, which always sent my Master into deep, peaceful sleep) I wanted to stare at the stars and marvel over my good fortune.

Her step was quiet enough to tell me that she'd spent a lifetime learning to tread lightly when she wanted. Dressed in a simple tunic, her hair in a braid, the young queen sat across from me and looked at me intently. "Do you get lonely, Obi-Wan?"

I remembered the silk of my Master's hair under my fingers. "I have my training to occupy me."

A delicate shrug. "I have the rule of a planet to occupy me, but I am often lonely." A pause. "I am expected to guide a people, but there are so many things I do not know. I have never even had a lover. Have you?"

Startled, I blurted out, "Yes. Yes, I have."

"It stands to reason, I suppose, you being older and a man. Men have so much more freedom in these things. I would–" and here she stumbled "–I would like to invite you to share my bed. Even if for only this one night." She was blushing, but not so very much, and her eyes were level with mine.

The response came before I thought. "I cannot. It would hurt another."

"You are not married." It was a statement, not a question.

"No, your Highness, not according to laws, but…"

"But you are married in your heart. I understand. Please forgive my boldness." She rose gracefully, apparently unembarrassed. "Your beloved is fortunate, Obi-Wan. Good   
night."

Now her voice breaks the silence. I did not hear her come in. I wonder what else I might have missed. "I brought some tea," she says. "If you won't eat, you must at least have something to drink."

I don't want the tea, but she is kind and worried. "Thank you, your Highness."

She hands me the tray but does not sit. "I– I know what was between the two of you. I wish there was something I could do for your hurt."

"I too wish that there was something."

She remains standing. "I am no stranger to grief, either. My parents died three years ago and I still mourn them. If there is ever something you would like to say to someone about Qui-Gon, I would be honored to hear it."

"Thank you, your Highness."

"Good night, Obi-Wan." The door closes gently behind her.

* * * * * * * * * *

I want to tell someone this, Highness: he had dark hair like velvet. He had a face like the statue of an ancient god. He had a body so strong it could have crushed me, though my memories of it are of nothing except gentleness. But mostly this, Highness, mostly this: I loved him fiercely, with heart, mind, and body, and I always thought it weakness to tell him so. I tried to tell him in any number of other ways, by kissing his eyelids or mending his clothing or rubbing his shoulders at the end of the day, but if I could, Highness, I would whisper it to him as he fell asleep, or tell him briefly before going into battle, or shout in the middle of a crowded marketplace. And I would have no need for regrets, because he would have known all along.

* * * * * * * * * *

It is late when she returns.

The palace is silent. Guards stand watch, but they are still as stone, barely distinct from the walls. It is because of the silence that I can hear the swish of the door and the soft sounds of her footsteps as she crosses the outer room and enters the area where I sleep.

Or don't sleep, to be precise. Where I lie awake in the dark, staring at the ceiling. I have lain here for hours—the watch has changed, I heard it—but still I do not sleep.

She sinks onto the pallet next to me, heat emanating from her as from a small furnace. We do not speak. I imagine her hair like a black pool, like smoke on the white of the linen.

She is inexpert but she knows what she wants. I follow her lead, placing my hands and fingers where I know they should go, licking here where she requires it. It has been so long since I have been inside a woman that it feels like foreign territory. Once I thought I would never forget it. Now I have.

She does not linger. Her lips press briefly on my forehead, and then she gathers her robes and disappears like a wraith.

Her smell, which is sweet, surrounds me, and after a few minutes I get up and immerse myself in the bath. I will never smell like Qui-Gon again.

* * * * * * * * * *

The boy likes this place, and I do not like to deny him. But the moon turns once, and it is time to leave.

I take a small transport which she has provided for me, and I seat Anakin beside me. He is old enough to learn to fly a real plane; I suspect that he may already know how and simply not have told me. Anakin is disappointed to leave Naboo—and Amidala—but he is a cheerful boy, and he does not stay upset for long. I make a vow: I will take this floppy-haired child and I will teach him everything I have learned. He will have my strength and my master's strength, and he will surpass both of us. And while he learns, perhaps I can unlearn; perhaps I can learn to forget.


End file.
